by Wendy Wang
A beautiful young man with dark wavy hair and blue eyes the color of lapis lazuli looked up at her from behind the desk. Was this the emperor? Surely not. He was too young. He flashed a smile and warmth spread through her putting her at ease. She’d heard that some Wood Kaels could project the emotion they wanted others to have but she’d never felt it until now. He raised his hand and motioned her forward.
“You must be the seer,” he said. His smile widened showing his white sparkling teeth. “Come. Come. We have much to talk about. Mouse, I need you.”
The young woman glanced up from her book and curled off the couch. Her long, dark blond hair fell over one shoulder and her hazel green eyes scanned Egan first before settling on Sorrel. The young woman took her place next to the emperor. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, not much older than Sorrel herself. Her serene heart-shaped face gave nothing away.
“So Egan tells me that you may be able to help me find my daughter,” the emperor said. He came around from behind the desk and stood in front of her. “You're so young. I thought seers were wrinkled up old women. But you are quite pretty.” The emperor reached his hand towards her face and Sorrel winced away. His eyes widened a little and the corners of his mouth curved slightly into a smile as if her reaction had somehow pleased him. “A scared rabbit. How wonderful to have a mouse and a rabbit in my collection. Isn’t it Mouse?” The emperor chuckled and Egan joined in. The young woman’s face remained neutral but her eyes narrowed and a cold prickle went across Sorrel’s scalp. A shiver crawled down her spine and her forearms broke out into goosebumps.
“So how does this work exactly?” the emperor asked.
“How does what work?”
“How exactly do you have a vision?”
“Well, they… just… come to me. Sometimes if I touch things or hear things or smell things, then I’ll have a vision. Sometimes they come in dreams.”
He nodded, never taking his intense stare away from her face.
“I see. So it's an art form I suppose.”
“Yes I-I suppose so.” She swallowed hard and bit her lip to stop the stutter before it could start.
“There's nothing to be afraid of here,” the young woman said.
“My Mouse is right. Nothing to fear here.” He raised his hand again and this time Sorrel forced herself to let him touch her. He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “See? Nothing can hurt you here.”
The words sounded good but she knew they were a lie. Egan would kill her if she failed him. Failure wasn’t an option though. She didn’t care about her own life but Jorgen and Raemah couldn’t suffer because of her mistakes.
“May I hold your hand?” Sorrel asked.
The emperor chuckled and glanced back at the young woman. Something unspoken passed between them and she nodded. Finally, he stuck out his right hand and Sorrel took it between both of hers. Breathing in deeply, she closed her eyes and waited for the familiar pain and sparks. Her hands tightened a little around his and he curled his fingers gripping them. After a moment sweat began to trail down her back. She let go of his hands and shifted her feet taking a step back. Egan quickly put his fist into her back pushing her forward.
“I'm sorry I don't see anything,” she said softly then added, “Yet. I’m sorry.”
“It's all right.” Peter said soothingly. “I have some experience with this sort of thing. It can take time.” He took a lock of her hair and brushed his thumb down its length. “What do you need? A beautiful view? Good food? You tell me what you need and I will get it for you.”
“Peter.” The young woman’s voice was full of warning.
“It's all right Mouse,” Peter said dismissing her. “We want her to be as comfortable as possible. You and I both know sometimes it takes safety and security for the mind to channel the gods. I'm assuming that's where these visions come from.” His body tensed and a shadow darkened his perfectly carved features.
“It's all right Peter.” The young woman came from behind the desk and stood next to him. She touched his arm and he clapped his hand over hers as if she was somehow holding him up. His eyes became vacant for a moment and he let her hand go and crossed his arms. The woman continued on, “I'll do whatever I can to help make you comfortable. Tell me what you need and I'll get it for you.”
“I—” Sorrel’s mind quickly made a list and she rattled it off, “Paper, drawing pencils, paint.”
The young woman gave Peter a sideways glance but he didn't seem to notice. She forced a smile. “That shouldn't be a problem. We have plenty of those. Anything else?”
“No, that should be fine for now,” Sorrel said.
The girl extended her hand. “I'm Eryn by the way.”
Sorrel glanced down at her delicate hand, blinking, unsure of what to do. She offered up her own hand, so she wouldn’t look like a fool and Eryn took it and as soon as their skin touched white hot pain drilled its way through Sorrel’s eye driving her to her knees. Bright white sparks bloomed and faded before her eyes. She screamed but it sounded distant and muffled, as if she was hearing it under water.
Images of a child filled her head, a child she had seen before. The little girl’s white blond hair became a halo in the bright light flashing around her. Her icy blue eyes were large and wet with tears.
Sorrel's hands gripped her head and she swayed back and forth as the vision unfolded. Somewhere in the distance she could hear Eryn's voice calling to her, asking her if she was all right and sounding panicked. She pushed it away and watched helplessly as the battle raged around the child. The little girl stood by a wall her pale skin reddened. She held a singed and sooty doll in her hands. Tears streaked down the child's face and she screamed Eryn’s name.
Sorrel's eyes flew open. “I-I n-need p-paper. P-please.”
Eryn scrambled to the emperor's desk opening drawers until she found a piece of paper and a pen. She thrust them into Sorrel's hands and Sorrel bent over placing the paper on the ground, scribbling symbols furiously. When she was done she sat back on her haunches breathing hard as she stared at the drawing. The emperor knelt beside her, touching her elbow gently.
“What does it mean?” he asked softly.
Sorrel swallowed hard praying the stuttering had only been a momentary lapse. She closed her eyes and cleared her mind as Tahlulah had taught her, trying to put the fear away.
“This,” she said tentatively. “Is a child. She has very pale blond hair and she is in a battle. Terrified. Crying. Fires burn close by and she is alone.”
Peter's lips twisted into a grimace and his hand scrubbed the stubble on his face so hard that it sounded like the sanding tool Jorgen used when he was carving wood.
“Mmhmm,” he muttered. His voice sounded shaky when he spoke, “But she’s alive?”
“Yes,” Sorrel said nodding. “She's alive.”
“But she's alone? You don’t see her mother?” he asked.
Sorrel glanced up and found Eryn with her fist shoved against her mouth. Her gaze trained intently on Sorrel. “No.”
“Did you see it? Eryn?” Peter asked, his eyes searching Eryn’s face. “Is she telling the truth?”
Sorrel could almost feel Egan's eyes on the back of her head as Peter said the word truth.
Eryn cleared her throat. “Yes, I saw everything. She called for me. At the end Y’Ana called for me.”
Peter got to his feet and wrapped one arm around Eryn’s shoulders pulling her to him. She rested her head against his chest. “Of course she did. She loves you. We’re going to find her.”
Eryn nodded her head, her eyes staring down at Sorrel, hard and unforgiving. “Yes. We will.”
“I’m s-sorry,” Sorrel stopped. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Remain centered. You control the words. The words do not control you. “I’m sorry I don't have more for you.”
“Nonsense. You were wonderful,” Peter said holding his hand out for her. Sorrel took it and let him help her to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her
shoulder and pulled her to him, and stroked her hair. Why was he so touchy? No one she knew touched her except Jorgen. “Thank you so much Sorrel. So, so much.”
“See?” Egan said. “What did I tell you sir?”
“You were right. She is exactly what you said she is.”
Egan's lips broke into a grin and his chest puffed up.
“Let me take our guest and get her comfortable,” Eryn said.
“Yes, that's a wonderful idea,” Peter said. “Thank you so much, Mouse.”
Eryn smiled at Peter her eyes full of admiration, and he stroked her cheek. Sorrel couldn't figure out if they were related as Egan had said or lovers. Perhaps it was just the emperor’s way to be so open with his affection.
“Come with me Sorrel. I know just the room for you. It will be close to mine and I promise you'll be very comfortable,” Eryn said looping her arm into Sorrel's, leading her away from Peter. Egan nodded his head towards her, his gaze locking with hers for a second.
“Miss Eryn,” Egan said. Eryn lifted her chin and didn't acknowledge him.
They were two flights up before Eryn said anything more to her. “It's all right,” Eryn said. “I hate him too.”
“Beg pardon?”
“You know it’s part of my job to read you. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, but Peter—the emperor—will want to know what's inside your head,” Eryn said bluntly.
“Of course,” Sorrel said.
“He doesn't like Egan any more than you or I do, but he’s desperate to find his daughter so—”
“I can't control it,” Sorrel said. “It just comes.”
“I know,” Eryn said. “And that's all right. Believe it or not Peter is not quite as monstrous as everyone makes him out to be. He understands that for some people accessing things outside of themselves like art or music or writing doesn't come easy. He understands it will have to be nurtured and it will probably take time.”
“He said that?” Sorrel asked not remembering any of those words being spoken.
“Yes, but not out loud.” Eryn chuckled.
“Oh,” Sorrel said. “So you’re a Wood Kael too.”
“Yes,” Eryn said. “Did Egan tell you anything about where he was bringing you?”
“Not really,” Sorrel said. The image of Jorgen and Raemah in that field filled her mind for a brief second and she pushed it away.
“Who are they? The boy and the girl.” Eryn stopped walking, turned and looked deeply into Sorrel’s eyes. Sorrel’s hands instinctively crossed over her breasts, as if she’d just been stripped naked in front of the woman.
“No one,” she whispered but she couldn’t stop the thoughts of them from coming.
“Egan brought you here against your will,” Eryn said softly. Her delicate hand barely touched the top of Sorrel's arm, but it felt as if it weighed 1,000 pounds.
“N-N-no,” Sorrel said softly unable to stop the quiver in her voice and the stutter.
“Peter won't like that at all.”
“Please don't tell him,” Sorrel asked bringing her gaze back up to meet Eryn's. “Egan will k-kuh—” She struggled with the last word.
“Kill them?”
Sorrel nodded.
“Are they your family?” Eryn asked.
“In a way, yes,” Sorrel whispered. Eryn's face softened.
“Let me figure out something to tell Peter, all right? He trusts me completely. And Sorrel, I want you to know you can trust me too.” Eryn gave her arm a squeeze and dropped her hand. “In the meantime let's get you settled. What are their names?”
“Jorgen and Raemah.”
“Let me see what I can find out about them. I’ll make sure they're safe. All right?”
“Thank you,” Sorrel said. Why had all the stories been circulated about Peter? At his cruelty? Surely this sweet girl wouldn't be so loyal to such a man.
They continued down the corridor until Eryn stopped at the last door. “I hope you like it here. It will be nice to have company again.” Eryn pulled a ring of keys from her pocket, and searched for a brass key. When she found the one she was looking for, she unlocked the door and turned the knob. A rush of cool air swirled around them as they entered the room. Eryn crossed the floor quickly.
“I had the windows opened to air it out. It's been a while since anyone's stayed in this room.” Eryn pulled the windows closed, the curtains billowing around her before falling into straight panels of gauzy linen.
The air smelled fresh with the scent of pine and a pang filled Sorrel's chest. So many summer days from her childhood were filled with this scent. She and Jorgen had spent most mornings gathering herbs for his mother from the floor of the pine forest that surround their village.
The elegant bedroom with its carved four-poster bed and plush carpeting was almost as nice as the room she had in the queen's palace. How soft would the thick down comforter and feather pillows be?
“It's beautiful. Thank you,” Sorrel said. Eryn stared at Sorrel, her hazel green eyes darkening. Despite her size Eryn crossed the room in only a few steps, closing the door behind them. She turned the lock and pressed her hand against the heavy wooden door.
“Tell me the truth,” Eryn said her voice steady and serious. “Did you come from the queen's palace?”
Sorrel shifted her feet and folded her arms across her chest. “Yes.”
“Did Egan take you from there?” Eryn asked.
“N–no,” Sorrel said, images of the attack flashed through her mind. “He took me from my village. He took all of us. Those his men didn't kill.”
“Sorrel I'm so sorry,” Eryn said. Her lips twisted into a knot and for the first time in her life Sorrel wished she had an affinity for wood so she could read Eryn’s thoughts.
“One of his men shot the queen,” Sorrel said.
“What?” Eryn asked. She glanced at the door her palm held tight against the wood. What did that do? “Is the queen all right?”
“I don't know. Her bodyguard and her husband took her away very quickly. Hopefully she's fine. She's very strong.”
“Husband? The queen is married?”
“Yes. To the Chief Commander of the Warden's army.”
“Oh.” A shadow of pain flitted across Eryn's face and then disappeared. “I hadn't heard they’d married.”
“I don't think a lot of people know,” Sorrel said. “There wasn’t a formal announcement or a large wedding.”
“Of course.” Eryn nodded and smiled but it never touched her eyes. “So you were in the palace?”
“Yes for several weeks. I was—the queen was helping me.”
“Did you happen to see or hear anything about a young guardsman accompanied by a child entering the city?” Eryn asked pitching her voice to a whisper.
“No,” Sorrel said. “But that really doesn't mean anything. I didn’t spend a lot of time with anyone other than the queen.”
Eryn bit her lower lip and stared at the floor for a moment as if she were working through something. Finally, she nodded and raised her head again, meeting Sorrel’s eyes. “You could have tried lying to me but you didn’t.”
“You just told me you can read me. Why would I try to lie? There would no point to it,” Sorrel said.
“So you were working directly with the queen?” Eryn said.
Sorrel hesitated, not wanting to give everything away. How deeply could Eryn really read her?
“I can see to depths of your soul if I really want to,” Eryn answered her silent question. Sorrel glanced around the room. There was nowhere to escape. “It's all right. I don’t usually go very deep unless Peter orders me too. Just know Peter can read you too—not very deeply, but he’s a master at body language and facial expressions and manipulation. Don’t try to lie to him either because even though he doesn’t go beyond a cursory reading of your thoughts, he will still know. He’s that good. Do you understand?” It surprised Sorrel how gentle the threat sounded, as if Eryn had just commented on the weather.
Sorrel nodded her head slowly. “I understand you completely.”
“Good.” Eryn smiled. “I do want to be your friend and I’ll do whatever I can to help you while you’re with us. All right?”
“All right,” Sorrel said. Her stomach flip-flopped.
“Good.” Eryn breathed out in relief and dropped her hand from the wooden door, and stood up straight. “I'll see about getting you some clothes. There is a private bathroom through the door on the left. The door on the right is a closet. We have breakfast at 7:30 in the morning, but I'll come by and get you for that. We eat dinner around 8 PM. You and I will have lunch together most days. Do you have any questions?”
“No.” Sorrel shook her head.
“All right, then I'll leave you for now. If there's anything you need there is a cord next to the bed.” Eryn pointed to a long golden rope with a shimmering tassel at the end. “Just pull it and I will come.”
Sorrel nodded and forced a smile. “Thank you.”
“No,” Eryn said. “Thank you. You've been very informative.”
Eryn open the door slipped outside and closed it behind her. The lock clicked reminding her she was not really a guest here. She sank down on the luxurious bed. No matter how comfortable the room was, she was still just a prisoner.
Twelve
Neala studied the drawing Sorrel had made for her of the two children fighting over the crown, for the hundredth time trying to figure out which character won. One of them was her child. Her daughter. Not even born yet and she was already having to do battle.
Neala blew out a sigh, closed her eyes and ran her hand over the tight muscles in her neck, pinching at them to get them to loosen up.
“Here,” Cai said. The warmth and weight of his hands on her shoulders made her relax almost immediately. “Let me get that for you.” His fingers kneaded her knotted shoulders and neck with deft precision. Like he did all things. A little moan escaped her lips. “You like that do you?”
“You know I do,” she grinned.
“Don't want you to get too excited but I have some news,” Cai said digging his palm with just the right pressure into the muscle beside her shoulder blade.